Finding Ecstacy
by La Voz de Alma
Summary: Booth is trying to sort out his head - and his heart. Spoilers: Everything BB through Season Five; small reference to "Double Trouble in the Panhandle." ike all of my stories, there's lots of gratuitous sex.
1. Part I

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

Special Agent Seeley Booth sat at his desk, hunched like a defensive gargoyle above a gothic cathedral. A clear glass mug and bobblehead novelty stood idly at the edge of the wooden surface where his nameplate usually resides. With a heavy sigh his fingers punted a folder paper football over the makeshift goal post into the basket below, joining a menagerie of improvised pigskins. Booth had been sitting like this for more than forty-five minutes with the same heavy question hanging over his head, 'If she didn't love him before, how could she love him like this?' The remnants of his coma still left gray curiosities in his life, including those spaces occupied by his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan.

Booth glanced to the taskbar on his computer screen for the time. It was six-fifteen, and he knew Bones was waiting for him at home. It was customary for them to enjoy a beer (or two, or three) after a successful case closure, but he only knew this once she had reminded him of this. Truthfully, he didn't feel much like drinking; Booth felt fuzzy enough. Slowly he opened his top desk draw, seeking a white envelope along the back corner. Carefully he folded back the flap and dug out a four-by-six inch glossy photograph from inside.

Smiling back from the image was he and his partner, donning garish circus regalia. The events of the case were clear, but his emotions were still conflicted. 'Have I always been in love with her?' Booth wondered. The edges of the photograph looked to have been handled with some frequency, and he knew that no man would search out such an unflattering keepsake unless it had deep emotional meaning. Grunting softly, Booth hastily pushed Florida to the recesses of the drawer and punched the large power button on his monitor. Determined he hurried out the door, nearly forgetting his coat. With his office dark behind him, Booth walked hurriedly down the corridor to the elevator. 'If I love her, or ever loved her, then I should be there to celebrate,' he mused.

His journey to Bones' apartment seemed to blur with the fading light of sunset. Somewhere he simply knew the streets without so much a second guess. While there were uncertainties in his mind, the road to this home was not one of them. He knew there was that one floorboard in the hallway leading to her door that would creak in age under his weight. It made the otherwise modern building seem more home-like. When she opened the front door, the light from within would warm her smiling face and wafts of a smell Booth knew only to be Bones would pour into the hallway.

The chime of the elevator sang softly as Booth reached the correct floor. Stepping out into the familiar passageway, he rounded the corner, slowing only for a moment as his foot fell lightly, rewarded with a "squeak" as he reached that perfectly imperfect spot. As he approached Bones' door, he smiled wide and raised his hand to knock. Before his knuckles could rap against it, the door swung open.


	2. Part II

"Booth, you're late," Bones stated. It was less of a complaint than an observation. Nevertheless, he was greeted with a thousand-watt smile and overtaken by a blissful wave of Eau de Temperance. "Traffic on the beltway was terrible," Booth offered, knowing she would see past the little white lie. She shook her head and stepped away from the door, granting him entry. He allowed himself the luxury of being overwhelmed by familiarity.

Booth let the warmth of the tidy apartment wash over him, feeling more at home here than in his own residence; it had been like this since the coma. Something about it embraced him more than the apartment he paid rent for on the first of each month. He often thought entering this space was like being permitted into his partner's soul. The walls lined with books filled with depthless knowledge, surfaces tastefully decorated with evidence of Bones' world travels and perfectly placed photographs of those most dear to her. He had been permitted to enter into the safest and most sacred of sanctuaries.

As he slowly crossed into the living room, Booth felt Bones sweep past him to the kitchen, the soft padding of her bare feet against the floor nearly silent. He wondered if he had always felt the tight, heavy hope to see her this way every night; to walk through that door into this holiest of places. He gazed at the once primly tucked and pressed scarlet silk blouse from earlier was now half buttoned and billowing around his partner's waist. He felt staunch and hard in his wool suit and heavy leather shoes. Booth stood for a long time, watching her move between the kitchen counter and the cabinets, gracefully composing her dinnertime symphony. Outside of her home, Bones' was awkward and uncoordinated, but not now. Now she was a fluttering form of brilliant red and shiny chestnut tresses, like wild flowering vines caught in a summer wind.

"Booth, could you close the door," it wasn't really so much a question as it was a request. He turned his head, flushing momentarily. For several minutes he has been standing at the edge of her living room, the front door still gaping wide, simply staring. Closing the door softly, Booth wrestled the tie from his neck and shoved it into his suit pocket. He discarded his shoes and coat in the nearby closet, relieving himself of the now past workday. Perched on a small shelf near the entry sat a small dark frame. Booth felt his heart swell as the smiling faces looked out at him. Donning muddied clothes, he in a once pressed suit and she in the Jeffersonian's blue coveralls, they stood amidst a would-be exhumation. Instead they found stolen identification cards and a mascot's left shoe.

The skilled sounds of cooking from the kitchen pulled him out of his momentary self-consciousness. He drew near to the swirling smell of nourishment and the clicking of wooden utensils. Booth, never one to feel powerless, began to roll up his sleeves, "What can I do, Bones?" He was answered with a cascade of hair as she turned to him, "You can get me a beer." It was an offering and he knew it; she didn't want help. Booth silently groaned as he opened the refrigerator. Neatly packed tofu, vegetables and a strange assortment of all things healthful; it was clear she lived alone. Fishing out two glass bottles from the door, Booth closed the door of Bones' miniature farmers' market. He pulled out the drawer closest to the appliance only to be greeted by aluminum foil and plastic wrap rolls.

Frustrated, he cleared his throat. "Oh, Booth, I'm sorry," Bones reached into a utensil canister producing a bottle opener. "Must've forgot…" Booth offered. His partner shook her head, "No, you didn't forget. I moved it because it seemed more sensible over here." The awkward silence was broken with the percussive pop of bottle tops. He handed one to her, and she accepted happily. "So, another case closed," Booth hated the emptiness.

"Yes, for sure," Bones took a long drink from her beer. Booth could see her searching for words, carefully evaluating her responses for appropriateness. She was trying to be gracious about his condition, but it just seemed like she was placating him; she never withheld from him before. He opened his mouth to comment, but the loud buzzing of the kitchen timer spoke for him. "Good, it's ready. I guess you weren't late after all," she smiled. The opening of the oven door brought forth a rush of spicy aroma Booth couldn't place.

Between the plush oven mitts steamed what could only be some kind of quiche, but it smelled tangy. Proudly Bones served slices of the curious dish onto plates and passed one to Booth. He sat down at the table, feeling a vague sense of recollection as though he had some emotional memory here. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, hoping to ease the moment. For the first time in a long while they ate in silence. Booth resolved it was quiche, but the spices were unfamiliar to him. It didn't matter, it was delicious and she was smiling.

Time passed, and it grew more comfortable, even in the silence. Soon enough the plates were cleared and they were seated on the couch. A pair of empty beer bottles sat before each of them, fresh ones in hand. The overhead lighting cast a hot amber glow through the glass, etching skewed circles on the floor. "Booth, does this seem familiar to you?" her question was too honest, too aware. It was familiar, but he couldn't find the emotional connection; every time his mind sought out for it, the memory slipped away, like grasping at smoke. "Of course, we always have a drink or get dinner after a case," Booth hating lying, but he worried the truth would be too hurtful.

The bottom of her beer bottle made a wet, loud bump as she placed it on the coffee table. "Booth, don't lie. It's okay you don't remember," she was placating him again and it hurt. "No, Bones. It's not okay!" his half drank beer joined hers. "I know I've been here before, I remember what we laughed about it and the stories we've told. But I can't remember how I felt about it. The emotions are simply missing," the blood was rushing through his veins and his face felt hot. Her hand touched his face briefly before she wrapped her arms around his neck.


	3. Part III

The heat of her body against him felt so familiar, and he knew they had embraced many times before. Then he wondered, 'have I always been so aroused with her before?' Then she leaned into him, her hip pressing against his growing erection. "Booth, let me help you remember," she whispered into his ear, as though she were afraid her voice would break the moment. Her hand ran through his short, bristly hair. It felt so masculine against her palm. 'This is right,' Booth thought. He grasped her waist, searching for something solid to ground him in the moment, yet his feet couldn't find the Earth.

Pulling her into his lap he breathed deep into her hair and there it was, the smell that has enticed men and women for tens of thousands of years: the hot, salty musk of human sex. The timelessness lasted only for a few moments; he needed to have more of her. His lips once parched with tentative hesitation were now wet with fevered desire. The space between them was now full with heavy, urgent need.

She returned the impatience of his hungry mouth, nipping and kissing at his lower lip. Soon past was the moment when the simple caress of lips was enough to contain the raging flames igniting their fiery need. She breathed against his mouth, and for a moment they shared a heavy, aroused breath. Bones' hands gripped his shoulders, seeking something tangible. A firm deliberate hand ran through her hair and one strong arm snakes more tightly around her waist, under the cool transcendent silk. The scorching flames in her belly were doused with volatile fuel and Booth's now fully awakened manhood pressed against her. He could swear the heat of her womanhood was almost overwhelming, even through her clothes. When she bucked against him, Booth thought he might die right there; Bones' causing his penis – and his heart – to swell.

He craved her warm, sweet softness, pulling her roughly against him. The full contact of his body against hers provided only a moment of relief. Booth's open mouth wrestled with hers, and shared moans pass between them. A perverse whim drifted into his mind, and he opened his eyes, forgetting whey they had even been closed. Booth enjoyed a few short moments of a long kiss, watching Bones' consuming arousal. He considered, perhaps, people close their eyes when they kiss to allow for total abandon without shame. But, there was no need for shame in their embrace. In a flutter of sex heavy lids, brilliant blue eyes bore painfully into his soul. They each understood there was only one way to quench the consuming flames of passion.


	4. Part IV

She led him to her bedroom as a lonely rider leads a horse to water after a long draught. He pushed past her, her hand still tightly in his, twirling her dizzily, pulling her closer to the bed. He grasped her other hand, as if completing the circle around them; creating a sacred space for their hearts. Booth sat before her on the edge of the bed, her hands in his, but she hardly towered above him. Bones moves towards him, straddling his knees. Once again his hands grasp her hips, pulling her onto his lap. The resonating contact in such an intimate position felt like atomic fusion, and the source of her heat gently bumped against his clothed erection. His lips sought hers, again. Tenderly Booth pressed his lips to hers, and in return she opened her mouth a bit, granting him access. The heady smell of her sex swam around him, and he was happily drowning in her essence.

In the span of a heartbeat, that is all there was: the fragrance of desire, as old as desire itself. Bones' grasped the bunched fabric at his waist yanking it over his head. With a few gentle tugs, Booth slipped the crimson blouse from her now bare shoulders. The silent thunder of the garment tumbling to the ground echoed, as though it had some unnatural gravity. She stood before him, freeing herself of her pants. For a moment Booth regretted not having a better glimpse of the shred of lace that must have been her panties. Once, she was fully nude, though, he realized his fanciful thought no longer mattered.

As this stood before him, her skin glowed with an opalescence while the moon's unearthly glow behind her. Never breaking her penetrating gaze, he pushed the way the last of his owning clothing. She slid her knees along the outside of his thighs until her hot, wet entrance was teasingly close to his painfully erect penis. His fingers, damp with sweat, brushed her cheek. The emotion in her chest was heavy and filling. Needing more contact, Bones pressed her body to his, her breasts flattened against Booth's hard chest. It felt as though magnetism held their bodies together. Unburdened by clothes or words, hot, moist flesh melded together. Aroused with the heat in his veins, Booth rolled her beneath him. Bones laughs aloud, not in humor, but with pride. The fire in his eyes burned only for her, if only in that moment. Even as he tried to dominate her with his sheer size the laughter peeled from her lips: she was the master here.

Growling low he accepted her challenge for dominance. Grabbing her roughly he displayed himself and his manhood proudly, kneeling over her. The laughter stopped and her eyes grew wide. Certainly no man had ever ignited such a fire in her, perhaps because she had always so firmly clung to control. Yet, as he pridefully knelt above her, Bones knew she had found a man truly capable of being her equal.

The ferocious growl that tore from his mouth excited her: finally an animal such as herself. As he lay down against her, dynamic energy passed through the pores of their flesh and electrified every bodily fiber. Booth grabbed her by the knees, her hips titling towards his. Leaning forward over Bones, he adjusted himself, swallowing hard. The head of his penis bumped against her clitoris, her hips arching up, needing more contact. He brushed against her again, preparing both of them.

In that first stroke any remaining connections to the tangible world disintegrated. Her molten heat swallowed him, devouring his sanity. His manhood filled her with such wild abandon it was as though each synapse came to life at once, like the bright threatening flash of an eclipse. The breath in her lungs became trapped, her voice suspended. She craved more of him, and her need was rewarded. Pushing her knees onto his shoulders, Booth thrust into her hard and deep. The sound that tore from Bones' lips was both ecstatic and hungry. He did it again, enthralled by the idea of being completely inside of her; he was mad for her. Tumbling deeper into the vacuum of primal intimacy, thrusting deeper, the remnants of the universe faded into hot, heavy clouds of luminous color.

Never one to submit, Bones shoved him back, hard. Not prepared for the strength or swiftness of her actions, he fell backwards. She rose over him. Booth moaned in protest as she deprived him of her warmth. She stretched out against his length, consumed with knowing every inch of his flesh. Her mouth burned wet, hungry kisses over the silken surface. Each spot where her lips touched felt illuminated, glowing hot like brands. His yearning built, overwhelmed by the urgency to be buried inside of her until there was no space between them; submerged in her hot, wet, softness. The madness overcame Booth and he tugged her beneath him.

Bones lost her hand once more; her face buried against his shoulder, and his hot breath on her neck. He pushed deep inside of her and once more they were connected, their boundaries irrelevant. She cried raw passion into his shoulder, her exposed teeth grazing the taught skin. The need for release was overwhelming; the heat between them molten and incinerating. In that moment it was as though she was the first women and he the first man to be joined this way. Booth's hand trailed down the length of her arm, seeking hers.

Their cries of pleasure echoed beyond that blistering, swirling space, filling each tiny distance between molecules with their intense need to find relief. Not so very far from beasts and perhaps as men and women always have, he and she sought a single purpose. Never were they as close to death as in that last moment, and then: Nirvana. He grasped for her wilding bucking hips, hot courses of semen pouring inside of her like heavenly essence. Paradise was caressed with sweat doused fingers, and then followed by the delicate tumble to the Earth.


	5. Part V

Contours and forms emerged once more. Again he was simply a man and she simply a woman, bathed in the broken evening light and fragrance of the now extinguished flames. Unknown it was that they might fall again. But in that moment, as sleep overtook them, it was of no matter. He pulled her against him, trapping the remaining heat between them. Maybe Booth would never remember how he had felt on all of those other nights. However, on that night, as Bones lay tucked against his body, he knew he loved her and he would never forget it.


End file.
